


Come and Get Your Love

by suck_upon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hijacking, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessive Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suck_upon/pseuds/suck_upon
Summary: Steve and Tony's jet is hijacked.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	Come and Get Your Love

Not even five minutes after they’d boarded the jet and they were soaring sky high, barely 5 hours out from Rome where the conference would be held. It never failed to amaze Steve what his husband was capable of inventing, designing and building. Tony’s mind and brain were really quite something. 

“Hey darlin’,” Steve smiled and nuzzled his nose into Tony’s hair as Tony had opted for Steve’s lap to sit down on rather than the ridiculously comfortable chair across from him. 

“I’d like to take you into Rome, show you around a little bit." Tony said. "After the conference is over, obviously.” He added quickly before Steve would call on it as a way for Tony to get out of their very boring but also very mandatory Avenger Duties™. Which, in all fairness, was not without the realm of possibility considering Tony’s track record of all the times he’d skipped out on board meetings and other responsibilities alike for less than a breath of fresh air. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Steve raised his hands in innocence and grinned. 

“For your edification, I haven’t ditched any meetings in– how long J?” 

“ _Three months, two days, and 8 hours, Sir_.” JARVIS responded dutifully.

“See! Three months, two days, and 8 hours! That must be a personal record of some sort, right?” The glee in Tony’s voice was adorable, thought Steve.

“Edification? Really, Tony?”

“It means for your information, FYI. I’m a genius, I can use big brain words.” 

“Color me impressed, sweetheart.” Steve just smiled, amused. “And for your edification, I’d love to explore Rome with you.” 

“Hi Pot, I’m Kettle.” Tony deadpanned. “Anyway, it will be so swell Steve, I know the cutest little bakery that sells the best Cannoli on the _planet_ , Steve, and right around this time of year is the best…” Steve wasn’t really listening anymore, just watching Tony in adoration as he used his hands emphasise his story—the Italian part of him already slipping up—and spoke with so much enthusiasm that Steve couldn’t help but get excited with him. Maybe a little break is what they’d deserved. At least it’s something he knew they really _wanted_. 

“That actually sounds wonderful, Tony. I think we can afford to reward ourselves a little vacation.” Steve sealed the promise with a kiss on Tony’s lips. That certainly shut him up. Tony moved his head forward pliantly and pressed his bottom further into Steve’s crotch area. Steve moaned. 

“I aim to please, Captain.” Tony smiled against Steve’s lips. 

“And successfully so.” Steve responded warmly. They stayed like that for a while, huddled in each other’s embrace, stealing kisses from the other every once in a while because that’s the lovey-dovey crap they we’re still eagerly committing to even after so many years of being together— before they were rudely interrupted by the plane suddenly jerking left and Tony falling out of Steve’s lap onto the airplane floor with a thud. 

“What the f–, J?” Tony spoke agitatedly.

“Tony! Sweetheart, are you alright?” Steve asked worriedly, standing up and extending an arm to help Tony off the floor. 

“I’m alright, Steve. I’m okay,” Tony assured him. “JARVIS, what’s happening, buddy?” 

They were met by silence. Steve looked Tony over in a worried expression, stopping his gaze on his eyes, questioning him. 

“I’ll go check with the pilot.” Tony dusted his linen pants with his hands before he walked to the front of the flying vehicle. He didn’t bother knocking– this was his plane after all and this goon was under his direct orders. “Excuse me, why did we change course? We’re supposed to be heading wes…” The rest of Tony’s words died in his mouth as he was met by the pilot standing with his back to the controls, one hand just low of his ear as he ended a call on his phone, the other stretched out in front of him, in his hand, holding a gun. Pointed straight at Tony. 

“Mr. Stark, please return to your seat.” He said, not exactly unkindly but he didn’t exactly leave much room for argument either. Tony didn’t respond. He just stared at the man across from him, his mind racing on the possibilities of how this could have happened, but more importantly, how he was going to get them out of this.

His nearly-composed plan fell short as the pilot’s patience (was he even a real pilot?) wore thin and he approached Tony. In a lightning fast movement the man went for his throat and pushed him back up against the lavatory door will a dull thud. Tony chocked, hands clawing at the vice like grip latched around his throat. That’s the moment when Steve rounded the corner.

“Don’t even think about it, Captain,” the pilot said, "Sit. Down.” He ordered. Steve only made a move to charge forward and rip this man the fuck off his husband. But the pilot punctuated his words with a jab of the gun into Tony’s side and that made Steve go over his options once again. Under no circumstance was Tony allowed to get hurt. Steve would oblige now, and once Tony was out of the direct path of a _bullet_ , well, he would figure that out on the fly. Priorities. Steve took a step backward. “Let him go.” He gritted out.

“Alright,” the man said, slackening his grip. Tony’s knees buckled and he sucked in quick quiet breaths of air, desperate to catch up on the much needed oxygen. “Both of you are going to sit down, and stay down, until we reach our destination-“

“Where are we going?” Tony demanded. The back of the gun hit Tony over his temple faster than he could blink. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he could feel a little trail of blood trickling down the side of his face. And that was it. Steve stormed forward to rip the pilot off Tony with one swift, forceful movement and managed to rain down two well-placed punches in the guy’s face before a loud _BANG!_ sounded and Steve felt a sudden sharp pain right above his kneecap. He stumbled backwards, but refused to fall down, determined to keep his body placed between Tony and their attacker. 

“No! _Steve!_ ” Tony shouted as Steve reached one arm onto the side wall of the plane for support, breathing heavily. Steve flung his other hand backwards pacifically, telling Tony to stay put. 

“You know you could easily beat me, Captain,” the man began, “I know that, too. So you could try; overpower me and save the day, but none of that before I will be able to put a bullet in your husband as well. And even if you were to be successful, the jet is rigged to set course straight down into the ocean if you temper with the controls. I know you might survive a plane crash, but will he?” He gestured from his position on the floor with the gun in his hand to Tony. Steve weighed over his options. They were over 30.000 feet up in the air, he wasn’t actually going to shoot, was he? Then again, he just did. He didn’t know if he was speaking the truth about the jet setting course for the _ground_ , but he knew that he couldn’t risk it. Not with Tony there. The man was bloody and lying on the ground and he still had the upper hand. It infuriated Steve to his core. 

“What do you want?” Steve snarled after a beat of silence.

“I want you, and your fella over there,” Steve snarled again as he made an attempt for Tony, “To sit the _fuck_ down, and shut up.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony agreed hurriedly, “Please, Steve, just listen, you’re bleeding.” Steve took a deep breath, either calming his nerves or gathering his wit—or both—he didn’t know. Eventually, he turned around, and felt the cold barrel pressed into his back until he started walking forward, taking Tony with him. “It’s gonna be okay, darlin’, I won’t let him hurt you.” Tony nodded to him in response and gave him a slight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. They walked to the back of the plane and the guy gestured again with his gun.

“Sit.” 

Steve sat down in the chair previously occupied by him and Tony in what couldn’t have been more than 15 minutes ago, but felt like a lifetime. Tony reached for the chair across from him and made to sit down as the man’s hand clutched painfully tight around Tony’s upper arm and yanked backward. Steve leaned forward-

“No.” The gun leered dangerously close to Steve’s face. “He sits with me.” He pulled Tony across the aisle and planted him in the chair that mirrored the one Steve was sitting in. The pilot took a seat directly across from Tony, benefitting him with a position that allowed him to keep watching both Steve and Tony as his arm rested lackadaisically on the armrest, gun in hand, pointed leisurely at Tony. “Take of your belt and tie it around your thigh.” He ordered Steve. Steve grit his teeth together and complied. 

Tony looked at him worriedly when he grunted as he tightened the belt. Steve had no idea where they were going but he knew that once they arrived at their destination it would be that much harder to make an escape. He also knew that making an escape wasn't possible until they had reached their destination. Which meant they were fucked, royally so. He tried to think of a plan. He was a strategist, it was his _job_ to make smart and fast tactical decisions under pressure, but somehow right now, the pressure was too much to think clearly under. Scratch 'somehow'– he knew exactly why he was unable to think straight. The fucker still had a gun pointed in his husband's general direction and it was making the sweat break out with Steve. He could also hear Tony's ragged breaths, the raspiness caused by the pilot's earlier stunt cutting off his airways, painfully evident to his super hearing and it made him want to drag the man with his teeth across the pavement. How dare he lay a hand on him? For once, Steve really wished he'd just humored Tony when he was pestering Steve to not go to this conference and do literally anything except for that. The situation would have been infinite times better had Tony not been here. Steve could take them, but not with Tony right there next to him, imperilled. He started tapping his foot nervously at the thought. 

"Could you just..." he hesitated, "Could you just not point the gun at him... _Please_." He mentally cursed himself for reconfirming his weakness to their foe. 

The pilot only smiled in response, "No, I don't think I will."

Steve didn't know how long it was before the plane started to descend, but with that the fear in him started to rise exponentially.

——————————

When they arrived the pilot forced them to stand and walk down the the jet's stairs onto an otherwise abandoned airstrip, save for a few more unfamiliar men awaiting them in front of a hangar. Steve never falters his protective stance in front of Tony as they walk down. A man in a black suit, not necessarily the biggest one but definitely the meanest looking, approaches them. The leader, Steve assumes.

“What do you want?” Steve asks, placing himself emphatically between his husband and the man approaching. Before he could react, the pilot that flew them comes up from behind and tears Tony from Steve’s grip.

“NO!” But as soon as Steve is turned, he is met with Tony’s fearful eyes as the pilot has yet again pressed his damned gun up against Tony. Steve hisses dangerously, not knowing where to look or what to do, his senses going haywire. The leader continues approaching and Steve feels himself nailed to the ground, even when he passes Steve and gently lowers the pilot’s gun from Tony’s face, releasing the pilot of his duties. Tony lets out a shaky breath.

“Not to worry, Captain Rogers.” He addresses Steve as his hand snakes around Tony’s arm, up and across his shoulder. “No harm will come to him.” Yet at the same time, he slowly draws a knife from the inside of his pocket and swiftly flips it open, dancing it around Tony daringly. “What we want is not of importance yet,” he continues disinterestedly, “but for now, you, Captain, are going to go with them,” he gestured lazily with the knife into the direction of the other men that awaited them upon arrival, “And Tony is going to come with me, right, handsome?” A shiver ran down Tony’s spine as the man behind him got even further into his personal space, his mouth hovering closely next to Tony’s ear. Tony could feel him press his nose into his hair and he tugged against his hold. The man snaked his arm around Tony’s neck and let the edge of the knife press against his pulse point. His other hand twisted Tony’s arm behind his back, trapping him effectively. Tony whimpered.

“ _Don’t_ fucking touch him.” Steve snarled dangerously.

“Don’t worry, Captain. Our interest is purely business.” The man smiled slyly at Steve, and as he did, his tongue slithered out of his mouth and tasted Tony’s ear.

Steve _growled_.

Tony closed his eyes and complained softly as fear filled him again. Steve was livid. The situation had him stripped to a primitive. There was nothing he could do because they were outnumbered. Even if Steve managed to make his escape, he had no idea where they were and no means of getting anywhere at all. And as their pilot so aptly pointed out: Tony was vulnerable. He couldn’t risk it. He had the serum to protect him, Tony had nothing. That’s not true– Tony had Steve. Steve would do everything in his power—bend hell or high water—to make sure Tony was safe. One scratch on his husband was already one far too many. Steve, feeling utterly useless in this situation, could still make himself useful by making sure Tony was left unscathed. But even that last sense of usefulness was being denied Steve as it became clear they were going to separate Tony from him.

A sleek black car pulled up behind them and the driver came around to open the back door. The man holding Tony slowly loosened his death grip and Steve could hear Tony let out a breath he had been holding. Steve took a step forward.

“Tsk tsk, Captain. I know how badly you want to play the hero and save your damsel, but that is _not_ how this going to go down.” The man’s voice had taken a very dark, stern inflection. The hand that he had disentangled from Tony’s arm moved upwards and latched itself into Tony’s brown locks, pulling his head back forcibly and pressing the knife even deeper into Tony’s skin. “You are going to comply, and you can consider your husband as my token for your motivation.” Steve felt sick to his stomach as the rest of the men came up behind, latching onto him. He could have easily shaken them off, but he didn’t. He felt powerless and he hated it.

 _“Steve…”_ Tony looked at him pleadingly as he was suddenly being dragged backwards. The hand is his hair used his locks as leverage to pull his head down and push him into the backseat of the still-running car.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Steve promised solemnly, “I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Captain Rogers.” The man answered as he seated himself next to Tony in the back of the car, still thightly holding onto him, before the door was slammed shut.

The car drove off.


End file.
